O Little Town of London
by Wordwielder
Summary: Christmas prompts for Hades Lord of the Dead's challenge!
1. Solemn

**December 1st: Solemn- Sparky Dorian. **

"Boys!"

Charlotte Watson leapt out of the way of a ball of boy, closely pursued by one of the many Watson bulldogs.

"_Boys_!" Two heads popped up expectantly. Charlotte tried very hard not to smile at how John's collar was askew and Hamish's hair was mussed in the back.

"I've told you not to wrestle in the parlor. You can play outside."

"It's too cold," John pled. "Wrestling's no fun in _coats_, mother."

Charlotte sighed. Both boys had inherited their father's warm brown eyes and could imitate his pleading look perfectly. Especially John, who was only seven. Hamish was eleven now, and his limbs were starting to gain the gangly quality of adolescence.

"Not the parlor," she repeated. "The nursery's fine. Oh, Gladstone, don't—" She pried the dog's jaws off Hamish's shoe. Gladstone whined petulantly.

"Come on, Gladstone," John sang out, slipping out of his brother's arms. "I'll race you there, Hamish!"

Hamish snorted. "Yeah, right. Eat my dust, small fry."

They took off, bumping into walls and skidding on the Persian rug. Charlotte couldn't resist laughing. The boys were back from school for Christmas, and goodness knew she missed them during the school year—despite how easy it was to keep the house clean, despite the lack of holes she had to mend. Some days she entertained having more babies just to keep from missing her little boys.

James came in when she was starting dinner, dusting off snow. "Do the boys have Gladstone?" he asked. "I came up short counting the pups."

"Of course, dear. When don't they?" She sighed a laugh. "They make a terrible mess but without them the house is so _solemn._"

"The only place they could use more solemnity is church," James agreed darkly.

Charlotte cast her eyes to the fluffy snow clouds in the sky before yelling, "_Boys! I MADE PUDDING!" _

She heard frenzied shouts and the pitter patter of running feet. "Be ready to dodge, darling," she said to her husband. "Nothing stands between the boys and pudding."


	2. Caroling

**From Spockologist:**

** 2. Caroling**

"Fa la la la, la la la!" trilled Mrs. Hudson.

MacPherson's Scottish accent tinged the opening bars of "Jingle Bells."

Lestrade and Gregson were goaded into a duet of "Baby, It's Cold Outside."

The Irregulars' coarse, childish voices crashed together and rose almost prettily as they sang "Do You Hear What I Hear?"

Mystrade offered a pleasing bass voice to compliment Mrs. Hudson's alto.

"My ears are bleeding," Holmes muttered.

"Where's your good cheer, Scrooge?" Watson chided.

"Let's start this house with "Hark, The Herald Angels Sing," Mrs. Hudson called from the front of the procession. "Louder, Mr. Holmes! I can barely hear you!"

Holmes cast Watson a look burning with resentment.

Watson grinned and moved closer to his friend as he began to sing. He elbowed Holmes' ribs and looked at him pointedly until the good detective grudgingly joined in.

**Dear God I'm far behind. Once I finally get out of the hellhole of school this Friday, I'll catch up. I promise**.


	3. Norbury

** From Lucillia:**

** Dec 3: The aftermath of "The Adventure of the Yellow Face."**

I rather expected Holmes to go into a depressive state when we returned from Norbury. He was, of course, unspeakably arrogant (and usually almost rightfully so). He had certainly miscalculated. This was such a rarity I was rather interested in his reaction.

He asked me humbly to keep him humble, and before he entered his room he paused. "There much good left in even humanity," he mused, and shut his door softly.

I cast a glance out the window at the stars, twinkling merrily. In Norbury, no doubt the Munros and the little child were getting acquainted in thousands of new ways. In Baker Street, I was sure Holmes lay reflecting. I bowed my head, and retired for my chamber, in a wonderfully cheerful mood. I had seen a wonderful show of family, and furthermore I had a new check in reserve for Holmes.


	4. Heart of Gold

** Alosha135:**

** December 4th - heart of gold**

During Christmas, Watson dashes through the snow happily, bankrupting himself to buy gifts for all of his friends and entreating Mrs. Hudson to make extra portions for the little street urchins and the Irregulars. He's never happier than during the season of giving.

I am a Scrooge, and I have always been. But in these Christmases of bright packages and scorched trees and snowball fights I'm softening, and Watson gets likelier and likelier every year to catch me in an act of kindness.

"You know, Holmes, you do have a heart of gold," he teases.

I don't think we share the same heart of gold. Mine's tending more towards bronze.


	5. Red

** Book girl fan:**

** 5: Write anything that includes the sentence, "Why is the dog bright red?"**

The snow was not falling so much as streaking down like falling stars. It was bitterly cold, and I entered Baker Street hopeful of hot cocoa and Christmas cookies, courtesy of Mrs. Hudson. I hung up my coat and looked around, surprised to not hear the rattle of pans from the kitchen or Mrs. Hudson humming.

I started up the seventeen steps feeling slightly apprehensive.

I heard a resonant whine as I opened the door to the flat.

"Sport?" I called. Sport leapt at me, whining, and scrambled into my arms.

"Glad to know you greet the animal before anyone else," Holmes said loftily from his chair.

I smelt the smell of singed hair and glared at Holmes. "Why is the dog bright red? No, let me reword that. Why is _my _dog bright red?"

"It's not my fault it's so curious about chemistry."

"Poor sport," I groaned. "Let me give you a bone. Poor little thing."

Holmes snorted.

"Be quiet, before I give _you_ a bloody nose."


	6. Home Visit

**mrspencil and Ennui Enigma:**

** December 6: Holmes joins Watson on a home visit to a patient.**

"I really would rather you stay in the cab," I said warily to my companion as I knocked on the door. "And for heaven's sake, put out your pipe. It sets a poor example when I'm promoting health."

"I have a practical knowledge of anatomy. I don't see how I could act to your detriment," Holmes replied, putting out his noxious smoke.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "It's not your knowledge that concerns me. It's your—" The door opened to a young serving girl of about twenty. I removed my hat. "Good afternoon, Miss. Is Mrs. Flanders upstairs?"

"Ay, Doctor, and in a horrible fever," the maid answered, in coarse Cockney tones. "I'll lead you gentlemen up." She led us to the once grand bedchamber of my fragile patient. "Missus Flanders, Dr. Watson is here."

"Good," Mrs. Flanders sighed. "Oh Doctor, I feel dreadful."

"I got your telegram. Please disregard my colleague. He and I rode together, and he will not be a bother." This I said with a cautionary look towards Holmes, who bowed obligingly. I pulled out my stethoscope and begin my preliminary exam.

I listened to her lungs for a moment and removed my stethoscope. "I'm afraid your pneumonia has returned."

"Oh," she groaned, punctuated by a sharp cough. "I was afraid of that."

"No doubt caused by your carelessness in leaving the window open during Monday's rain," Holmes observed. "Your windowpane shows marks of dried raindrops. "

"Carelessness?" Mrs. Flanders snapped. "Pardon me?"

"Holmes!" I barked. "I apologize, Mrs. Flanders. Do not get anxious. It will not help your condition. Be sure to stay hydrated and keep the fire going strong. I'll be back to check in with a prescription to manage your symptoms tomorrow afternoon."

"Good day, gentlemen," Mrs. Flanders said frostily, and more softly, "Thank you very much, Dr. Watson. Emma shall provide your fee downstairs."

"I'll keep you in my prayers," I said, gathering up my supplies back into my bag. "Come along, Holmes. "

Holmes began to follow me out, and then paused by the door. "Madam, is the Fradelle over the fire an original?"

Mrs. Flanders smiled proudly. "Yes. It was an heirloom from my husband's side."

"I should double check with your art dealer if I were you," Holmes said gravely. "It bears all the signs of being an excellent forgery."

"Good afternoon," I said hastily, and fairly slammed the door shut to escape the shout of outrage from the bed. "Must you?" I asked Holmes reproachfully. "I simply cannot take you anywhere."

"Can we get on to the crime scene?" Holmes asked briskly.


	7. Dark and Stormy

** From Book girl fan:**

** December 7: 'It was a dark, stormy night, when they came to call.'**

"That sounds horrifically like an American suspense drama," Holmes critiqued.

I crossed my arms. "Was it not dark and stormy?"

"Certainly," he agreed.

"Did they not come to call in the night?"

"Quite accurate."

"Then state the romance in the statement."

"I was merely noting a similarity in style."

I turned back to my typewriter and resumed my work.


	8. Roof

** From Madam'zelleGiry:**

** Day 8:**

**"What in the world are you doing on the roof?"**

I felt the first flakes of snow fall onto my shoulders and glanced up into the sky; I yelped in shock and dropped the letters in my hand into the sludge on the ground.

"What in the world are you doing on the roof?" I bellowed up to one Sherlock Holmes, who was balanced on the drain pipe quite calmly.

"Trying to replicate the Anderson murder," he replied nonchalantly. "The conditions are perfect. Would you like to join me? I need you to play the part of the victim."

"The one who fell to his death? No, thank you!"

"Very well. Would you fetch Wiggins then?"

"No one is stupid enough to participate in that madness, wages or not!"

"He will if I offer him one of Mrs. Hudson's pies."

"Don't slip," I cautioned, picking up the scattered letters and starting back for the door. "I'd hate to have to bother with a funeral during Christmas."


	9. Pandemonium

**From Sparky Dorian:**

** 9. Pandemonium.**

"Holmes!" Watson roared, pouring an entire bottle of cider over the flaming tree to douse the flames. "What is heaven's name—"

"_Mister_ Holmes! _Doctor_ Watson!" Mrs. Hudson shrieked. "I thought I was clear about chemical explosions!"

"Are you alrigh', then?" Lestrade panted, bursting through the flat's door with apparently half of Scotland Yard behind him. "We were passing by, and we saw what looked like an explosion—"

"It was!" Mrs. Hudson screeched.

"Was it an assassination?" Gregson cried.

"No, it was Holmes being an idiot—"

"I knew exactly what would happen, Watson—"

"Furthering proving your idiocy—"

"Sticks and stones, Watson—"

"I will really break your bones—for the love of God, can't you just let_one_ tree survive through Christmas—"

"I want damages payments," Mrs. Hudson snapped.

"Let's get out of here, gents, he's alive after all—"

"You sound disappointed to hear the news—"

"Shut up, Holmes, and help me clean up this mess!"


	10. Reverse Psychology

**From KnightFury:**

** 10 - Mrs. Hudson wants 221B spotless for Christmas. How can she get Holmes to co-operate?**

"Mr. Holmes."

Holmes' knife hit the red target painted on the newsprint exactly. "Yes, Mrs. Hudson?" He sang out. "A client?"

"No. I wish to speak with you."

"Proceed."

"I cannot help but notice that the flat has been—untidy since the Doctor moved out."

"I rather prefer it in this state."

"I'm afraid I do not," she said firmly. "Your lease details that you must maintain basic cleanliness. I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper."

"You are having a visitor you wish to impress for Christmas."

She blushed. "Yes, Mr. Holmes. Please keep the rooms tidy for me."

"I make no promises, my dear woman."

"Very well," she sighed. "I knew you couldn't anyway. I just thought I would appeal to you."

"I _can_. I just do not wish to."

"If you say so, Mr. Holmes."

The reverse psychology worked quite nicely after all.


	11. Klaxon

** 11th Dec Prompt**

** From Hades herself:**

** Klaxon**

I first rode in an automobile with Watson in 1912. We had recently parted ways, and I had been cajoled to stay Christmas in the country with him. We bounced over rutted roads, waved cheerily at passerby (actually, that was Watson), took a sharp turn, honked the klaxon at an identical passing vehicle, and finally reached the house.

"What do you think of her?" Watson asked proudly.

I grimaced at him. "I prefer the old cabs of yore."

**I'm actually pretty proud of myself. I'm up to 11 and a few days ago I hadn't gone past one. I'm aiming to hit at least fifteen today, and if I reallyyyyy push myself I might even get caught up!**

**Noun**

**1.**

**klaxon** - a kind of loud horn formerly used on motor vehicles


	12. 12 Days of Christmas

**From Lucillia:**

** Dec 12. Twelve Days of Christmas + a murder = Chaos.**

On the first day of Christmas, Sherlock Holmes gave to me

A plot by Moriarty!

On the second day of Christmas Sherlock Holmes gave to me

Two dead bodies

And a plot by Moriarty!

On the third day of Christmas Sherlock Holmes gave to me

Three gun shots

Two dead bodies

And a plot by Moriarty!

On the fourth day of Christmas Sherlock Holmes gave to me

Four explosions

Three gun shots

Two dead bodies

And a plot by Moriarty!

On the fifth day of Christmas Sherlock Holmes gave to me

Five injuries

Four explosions

Three gun shots

Two dead bodies

And a plot by Moriarty!

On the sixth day of Christmas Sherlock Holmes gave to me

Six inspectors chasing

Five injuries

Four explosions

Three gun shots

Two dead bodies

And a plot by Moriarty!

On the seventh day of Christmas Sherlock Holmes gave to me

Seven arrests made

Six inspectors chasing

Five injuries

Four explosions

Three gun shots

Two dead bodies

And a plot by Moriarty!

On the eighth day of Christmas Sherlock Holmes gave to me

Eight crooks a-running

Seven arrests made

Six inspectors chasing

Five injuries

Four explosions

Three gun shots

Two dead bodies

And a plot by Moriarty!

On the ninth day of Christmas Sherlock Holmes gave to me

Nine friends laughing

Eight crooks a-running

Seven arrests made

Six inspectors chasing

Five injuries

Four explosions

Three gun shots

Two dead bodies

And a plot a by Moriarty!

On the tenth day of Christmas Sherlock Holmes gave to me

Ten full notebooks

Nine friends laughing

Eight crooks a-running

Seven arrests made

Six inspectors chasing

Five injuries

Four explosions

Three gun shots

Two dead bodies

And a plot by Moriarty!

On the eleventh day of Christmas, Sherlock Holmes gave to me

Eleven Irregulars eating

Ten full notebooks

Nine friends laughing

Eight crooks a-running

Seven arrests made

Six inspectors chasing

Five injuries

Four explosions

Three gun shots

Two dead bodies

And a plot by Moriarty!

On the twelfth day of Christmas, Sherlock Holmes gave to me

Twelve days of chaos

Eleven Irregulars eating

Ten full notebooks

Nine friends laughing

Eight crooks a-running

Seven arrests made

Six inspectors chasing

Five injuries

Four explosions

Three gun shots

Two dead bodies

And a plot by Moriarty!

(And also a very burnt Christmas tree.)

**Wow, I'm beyond pride of this. Best of all, it also fits the rhythm of song almost perfectly!**


	13. Dreams

**13 From Hades:**

** Dreams**

The living room floor was a massive plain of sleeping boy.

They made up places for the Irregulars to sleep after they gorged themselves on Mrs. Hudson's excellent cooking. It was twenty degree outside, and it was Christmas Eve.

Tobias rolled over and almost onto Watson's foot. "The children were nestled all snug in their beds/

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads," Watson quoted.

Wiggins half-sat up. "Sugar-plums? That sounds real nice."

"Go back to bed," Holmes said gently. "St. Nicholas isn't quite here yet."

"Okay," Wiggins yawned, and fell back into his dreams.


	14. Mass

** From Spockologist:**

** 14. The group attends Catholic Christmas mass**

"Tonight we gather to celebrate the birth of our savior, Jesus Christ of Nazareth…"

The stars twinkle serenely through the stained glass windows.

"…it is through this glorious miracle that we are all saved today…"

The world is calm and silent, like it was so long ago.

"Let us rise in song to our Heavenly Father…"

The organ notes spread through the church, both delicate and strong.

You sneak a glance at Holmes as the congregation bows their heads in prayer. His eyes are closed reverently, and he looks at peace.

You offer an extra thanks to the Good Lord above for the chance to show your friend another view of faith and for all his blessings he has given since last Christmas- one of which is sitting beside you. You squeeze Mary's hand, and she squeezes back.

Mrs. Hudson is holding her rosary. The Yard is deep in prayer. A few irregulars have been coaxed here, and they do their best not to wiggle.

What a holy night.


	15. Memory

** From Sparky Dorian:**

** 15. A childhood memory that the character wouldn't want shared.**

The frantic thump of fists against flesh. Be silent, do not give gratification. Minor injuries, maximum healing time a week.

Ouch.

"Freak."

Do not cry.

"I hope this taught you something."

_I am better than you._

"He's had enough. Let's go."

A final kick.

Closed eyes, and mustering the strength to get up and forget.


	16. Ecstatic

** from Sparky Dorian:**

** 16. Ecstatic.**

Sherlock was not an overly demonstrative child. It was rare for him to laugh, almost unheard of for him to cry, and unusual for him to initiate touch.

He carefully unwrapped the red and green package, not tearing the paper at all, and let out a cry of exultation when the contents of the package came into view. He ran to his mother and father and grabbed them round the legs, his usually solemn face split with a grin. "Thank you, Mother! Thank you, Father! Thank you!"

"I knew you would like it," Adelaide laughed, ruffling his hair. "My little scientist."

Sherlock's new microscope gleamed bright in the morning sun.


	17. Switch

**From mrspencil and Ennui Enigma:**

** 17/Holmes and Watson exchange roles for a day**

"Good morning, Lestrade," Holmes called cheerily. He had a notebook tucked under his arm.

"Lestrade," Watson said stiffly.

Lestrade blinked. "Doctor, why are you in Holmes' coat?"

The doctor's eyes sparkled merrily. "We're in a bit of bet. We're switching places for today. First to break character loses. Now," his voice melted into the lofty cadences of his friend. "What do you have for me?"

"Um," Lestrade stuttered. "The crime scene is this way."

"As usual, your men have taken no care where they stepped," Watson snapped. He winked at Lestrade.

"I must say, you are doing admirably," Lestrade admitted.

"I shall have to do my best anyway. I am of course briefed on the case."

"What you have you discovered thus far?" Holmes asked sympathetically, touching a hand to the brim of the hat he was wearing—a favorite of Watson's.

"This is horribly unnerving," Lestrade said. "But we've got one suspect…"

Holmes opened his notebook.


	18. Decoration

**From Sparky Dorian:**

** 18. Holmes and Watson sneak into Scotland Yard to decorate for the holidays.**

"I wonder what the Commissioner would say?" Watson mused, a hint of devilry in his eyes. He grabbed a string of tinsel and draped it over MacPherson's desk.

Holmes stepped on a chair to pin a sprig of mistletoe over the main entrance. "I imagine it would involve a lot of angry hand gestures."

Watson chuckled. "Hand me a poinsettia."

"And to think the inspectors accuse me of not being in the spirit. They barely had a sprig of holly about before we got here."

"There will be no shortage after we're done. A popcorn string here, I think."

"Ribbon?"

"Yes, thank you. Oh, that's lovely."

Holmes burst out laughing. "You were right. This did get me in the Christmas spirit. I can't wait to see their faces."


	19. Sparkle

**From Madam'zelleGiry:**

** Day 19: Sparkle**

There is a frenzied snowball fight, following by hot cocoa and a roaring fire.

There are Christmas cookies stuffed into mouths and swallowed almost whole.

There are constant guests arriving and taking off their coats, with happy exclamations of "Merry Christmas!"

There is a huge and merry dinner, full of laughter.

There are snuck kisses under the mistletoe and catcalls.

There is the exchanging of gifts, and the frantic tearing off of colored paper by the Irregulars. There are squeals of joy and exultant hugs of gratitude.

There are songs, in varying levels of being on-key.

And over all the chaos, the sparkle of Christmas candles in the windows and lights twinkling off the tree.


	20. Doctoring

**From Madam'zelleGiry:**

** Day 20: The Doctor**

"Hello Doctor," a small Irregular chirped brightly from the door of his practice. "Wiggin's in a bit of mess, do you have a minute?"

"Of course, Toby. In what sort of—"

A small cluster of Irregulars pushed Wiggins towards Watson.

"Hullo Doctor. I think I've broken my arm."

Watson grimaced at the unnatural angle of Wiggins' arm. "Let me see. I'll be careful." He carefully prodded at the bone, and Wiggins winced.

"It's broken alright. The good news is it's a clean break. I'll have to set it, and it'll hurt, but then we can set you in a sling and it'll heal easily."

"Well, I've had worse," Wiggins said bravely.

"What happened this time, Wiggins?"

"Weren't up to nothing unproper, Doctor. Just slipped on some ice." He closed his eyes and whimpered as Watson set the bone. "Lemme pay you something."

"Wiggins, it's quite unnecessary."

"I insist," Wiggins said with all the gallantness of a true gentleman. He handed Watson a shilling very formally, and Watson narrowly avoided a laugh.

"Let's get you in your sling."

**I'm amazing even myself. THIS BRINGS ME TO ONLY FOUR BEHIND. In other news, it's Christmas Eve!**


	21. Renovations

**From Book girl fan:**

** 21: Renovations at Baker Street.**

"Holmes, you have to get_ off the couch _while the workers are renovating."

Holmes opened his eyes briefly. "I'm not in their way."

"It's a safety hazard," Watson groaned, exasperated. "Get up."

"Let me sleep as a Christmas present."

"Mrs. Hudson just wants a bay window, Holmes. Let the poor woman have her bay window and _get up."_

"We don't need a bay window."

"I'm sure it'll look very nice. Much better than the VR in the wall."

"Where is your sense of patriotism?"

"Don't talk to me about patriotism, I'm a veteran. Now get up."

"If I get up, will you let me smoke without complaint?"

"Very well. Just get up."

"Alright, Mother."


	22. Persuasion

**From Book girl fan:**

** 22: Mycroft Holmes does not celebrate Christmas**

"Is your brother coming to Christmas?" Dr. Watson asked. "Or is he celebrating with colleagues?"

"Neither. This year Mycroft has forsaken the Yuletide," Holmes replied, his eyes never leaving the crime column.

"Not celebrating?" Watson repeated, horrified.

"Mycroft has never been particularly religious."

"But it's _Christmas_—he could just come for the celebration."

"I believe he is firm upon the matter."

"I'll see about that," Watson insisted.

Come Christmas Eve, Mycroft Holmes was ushered into 221B by a grinning Watson.

"I thought you weren't celebrating this year?" Holmes inquired.

Mycroft harrumphed. "The Doctor is a difficult man to say no to."


	23. Baskerville Christmas

**From Madam'zelleGiry:**

** Day 23: Baskverville Christmas**

(Set to the tune of the classic Jingle Bells.)

Dashing through the moor

Pursued by the hound

Over the sulfuric wind

Running all the way

Growls and yip follow

Making hearts beat fast

What adventure to solve the case

And put our friends at ease!

Oh! Christmastime, Christmastime!

Time to celebrate!

Oh what fun it is to feast and sing

And let go all the fear, hey!

Christmastime, Christmastime,

Time to celebrate

What fun it is to feast and sing,

And let go all the fear!


	24. Cake

** 24th Dec Prompt**

**From Hades:**

** Cake**

"Doctor, which one will be best?" Mrs. Hudson fretted. "The rum cake? The bundt? The cheesecake? The chocolate drizzle? The swirl? Fruitcake? I can't decide."

Watson gazed out over the glorious spread of cakes.

"Mrs. Hudson, there are over forty people eating here tonight. I doubt any of this bountiful repast will go to waste."

"Oy, lads, Mrs. Hudson's _bakin'!_"

"All will go over well, I do think," Watson concluded.

**GUYS. GUYS. I'M CAUGHT UP. I AM CAUGHT UP. **


	25. Father Christmas

**From Galaxy1001D:**

** Dec 25: Write a story where Sherlock Holmes dresses as Father Christmas.**

"You actually look rather convincing," Watson mused. "It's just a pity you're so thin."

"Feel free to take over," Holmes replied. His voice was a muffled behind a snowy beard, but Watson could hear it dripping with scorn.

"Come now, you must be a little more jolly or you won't be adequate. Do it for the children."

Holmes glared at him, but produced a jolly "ho-ho-ho."

"Excellent. Let me get something to make you fatter."

"I don't think all the desserts in the world will work on such short notice."

"Not that." Watson rolled up a sheet and positioned to look like a round belly. "There we go. Alright, Father Christmas, time to meet your adoring fans."

"Must I? They'll have to stop believing sooner or later," Holmes pled.

"Later," Watson said firmly. He adjusted his elf cap and said briskly, "Well, tally ho."


	26. Sneaking Out

From SheWhoScrawls:

December 26: Watson observes Holmes sneaking out at night. What is he up to?

"Holmes?"

Holmes turned. "Hello, Watson."

"It's three in the morning, Holmes."

"I am aware."

"Where are you going?"

Holmes paused. "Scotland Yard."

"At three in the morning?"

"I have revenge to get on Lestrade."

"Ah." Watson reached for his coat. Holmes looked at him skeptically. "Oh, Holmes, you know I'm coming."

"Very well," Holmes said briskly. "Help me carry the sulfur."

**So I hate chemistry, and I literally don't know how to do half of this homework I should be doing, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to catch up. My school comes back tomorrow. Yay. **


	27. Homesick

**From Spockologist:**

**Someone is homesick during the holidays.**

"Mrs. Hudson?" Watson asked tentatively. "Forgive me, are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Mrs. Holmes replied.

"Because you've just poured the tea into the roses and not the cups," Holmes suggested.

"And you've been very quiet, my dear woman," Watson added.

"And looking out the window at a rate of three times per minute, oft accompanied by a sigh," Holmes continued.

Mrs. Hudson half-laughed, half-sighed. "The two of you are too perceptive."

"Well?" Watson prompted.

"My sister just wrote me from Glasgow asking me to visit for Christmas."

"And?" Holmes asked.

"I can't _go_, of course. Who will take care of you boys? Who will cook Christmas dinner?" Mrs. Hudson fretted, pouring tea into the cups this time as she spoke.

"We'll bring in Mrs. Lestrade and all the Inspector's wives for dinner. In the meantime, we can cook for ourselves. Go to Glasgow," Holmes said firmly.

"There's no point in being homesick here when you could be catching a train tonight," Watson decided.

"I have been homesick," Mrs. Hudson admitted. She swiftly kissed both their cheeks and said quietly, "Thank you, boys. Now," she brightened. "I have to pack!"


	28. Prank

** From Lucillia:**

** Dec 28. Lestrade and Gregson give Holmes a mystery to solve. Unfortunately, it's a prank.**

"…so here's your ticket for the steamer," Gregson concluded. "We've already written Boston you're coming."

"I shall have to pack," Holmes said loftily. "Thank you, gentlemen."

Lestrade and Gregson exchanged a look of poorly disguised glee as they waved their goodbyes. "Write us from America!" Lestrade called as they descended the stairs.

"Holmes—" Watson began.

"Oh, don't worry, Watson," Holmes smiled. "I am well aware they are tricking me. I subscribe to the principal newspapers of Boston, and I do believe I'd have read of the murder of a countess. I'll be sure to write them from 'Boston' and then I'll get my own revenge."


	29. Interruption

**From Sparky Dorian:**

** 29. Watson tries to tell Holmes something important, but keeps getting interrupted.**

"Holmes, I've been meaning to tell you—"

"MISTER HOLMES!"

"That dear woman can sound downright demonic when she's cross," Holmes remarked as Mrs. Hudson stomped up the stairs.

"Do you know what I found in my kitchen this morning, Mr. Holmes?"

"I daresay not sugar and flour, to have upset you so."

"A rat, Mr. Holmes!"

"Ah."

"I would have simply disregarded the filthy creature's appearance if I hadn't have seen it _wearing a collar with your name printed on it!_"

"I've been using Walter for a lab subject. I wondered where he had wandered off to."

"_Walter?" _Mrs. Hudson cried.

"What have you done with him?" Holmes inquired.

"I chased the pest outside!" Mrs. Hudson shrieked. "Where it should be with the rest of its kind! If you ever bring vermin like that into my house again, I will throw you into the street with it!"

"Of course, my good lady," Holmes said gallantly.

Mrs. Hudson looked as if she'd gladly punch him in the face, but instead flounced out in indignation.

"As I was saying," Watson began again, and almost as he began to speak Sport howled and took off like the devil. "Now what?"

"Oh, he's found Scott," Holmes cried, jumping up. "The other rat," he explained. "Control your beast."

"Control _my_ beast!" Watson lunged and grabbed a snarling Sport. Holmes yanked up a slick black rat and popped it into a small wire cage.

"Holmes, I need to tell you—"

A knock at the door, which Holmes answered _right now_, despite the fact Watson needed just a _minute_ of his time—

"Hello, Lestrade," Holmes said pleasantly. "Tea?"

"I'm about to head to a crime scene, Holmes, and it's damned queer…"

"You can tell me about it in the cab," Holmes said, donning his coat. "Are you coming, Watson?"

"Holmes, I really need to talk to you!" Holmes was almost out the door. "_Holmes!_"

"What, then?" He barked impatiently.

"I'm getting married!"

Holmes froze in place.

"Will you be my best man?"

"Well, obviously, Watson, but I wished you'd brought it up earlier!" With that, he slipped down the stairs.


	30. Late

**From Madam'zelleGiry:**

**Day 30: "I don't have time for this!"**

"Holmes, I have dinner at Mary's in twenty minutes! Where are my cuff links?"

"How should I know?" Holmes yawned.

"Because you're always moving things!" Watson rifled through a pile of papers. "I'm borrowing yours."

"Very well. Be careful to use the pewter pair, the gold has been dipped in poison."

"Poison—? Pewter doesn't match!"

"I might have another gold pair, but I really don't know if I pawned those or not."

"I don't have time for this!"

"Just use the pewter, vanity be damned."

"I'll be home around midnight, don't get murdered," Watson called as he dashed out the door, pewter cuff links in hand.


	31. New Year's

**From cjnwriter:**

** Dec 31: Watson is hoping for a peaceful New Year's Eve this year. Does he get it?**

"I just wanted a nice night at home with my wife, Holmes."

"How many times do I have to apologize?"

"A little champagne, a nice fire, a kiss at midnight. That was all I wanted. Instead, I end up in a jail cell with _you _for public drunkenness when I haven't had a drop of liquor all night. All because you had to 'fit in' with the other partygoers. I'd kill you gladly for a beer right now."

"Your loyalty is boundless," Holmes said dryly.

"Mary probably has a nice warm stew and a cold beer waiting for me," Watson said mournfully.

"It's about five seconds to 1891, old boy," Holmes said, gazing at the clock through the cell bars.

Watson, despite himself, clasped Holmes' shoulder. "Happy New Year."

**Merry Christmas and Happy New Year all! I always have so much fun doing these, and I'd love for you all to go check out Tales of 221B as well. Thank you all!**


End file.
